


Nocturnal Me

by Backwards_Blackbird



Series: Tied as One [4]
Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Current era, Established Relationship, Ghoul banter, M/M, Sleep Paralysis, Some vague and delightful hints at Swiss/Aether, We Got It All, Wintry vibes, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:08:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28399743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Backwards_Blackbird/pseuds/Backwards_Blackbird
Summary: Copia receives a visit on a late winter’s night from a sleep paralysis demon.
Relationships: Cardinal Copia/Dewdrop Ghoul | Fire Ghoul, Papa Emeritus IV/Dewdrop Ghoul | Fire Ghoul
Series: Tied as One [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1882246
Comments: 14
Kudos: 28





	1. I.

**Author's Note:**

> This all started with me thinking, "Huh... What if Daius was Copia's sleep-paralysis demon? ...With sexy results?"
> 
> Somewhere down the line, we got some Yuletide vibes. Because 'tis the season, man!
> 
> The general concept: the Umbrae are naturally spooky little shadow demons. When summoned and bound by the church, they become masked humans in a suspended state. They don't eat, they don't sleep. If the mask is removed, the spell breaks and they become their natural shadowy selves again. But what if the mask could be removed, and their human form retained? Inquiring anti-popes wish to know.
> 
> An important note! In my fics, the ghouls don't call each other the names the fanbase has chosen. (With the exception of Aether. You go, Aether.) Their nicknames for each other are just Latin forms of their elements, or terms vaguely related to their elements. Here's a handy guide:
> 
> Dewdrop ➜ Ignis (or Daius, his actual demon name)  
> Aether ➜ Aether ;)  
> Rain ➜ Aqua  
> Mountain ➜ Terra  
> Swiss ➜ Lux  
> Cirrus ➜ Aer  
> Cumulus ➜ Aura
> 
> I also would be remiss if I did not give enormous thanks to my buddy [@ephemeralgrime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeralgrime/pseuds/ephemeralgrime) for her endless support and help with this story. She is the bomb dot com and you absolutely must read her writing. 
> 
> Feel free to hit me up on Tumblr at [@backwards-blackbird](https://backwards-blackbird.tumblr.com/) ! Thanks for reading, and kudos and comments are always immensely appreciated!

**Nocturnal Me**

The rosy moonlight through the stained glass window had something of a 2:50 shade, or perhaps a 3:30. No later than a 3:45. Copia could be certain it was the Witching Hour in his bedroom, when all the shadows hung heavy in the dark-wood corners and the Umbrae carried on with their sleepless routines across the campus.

He sighed and closed his weary eyes, which were smudged around the edges with the last remnants of black face paint. Off-seasons were terrible for his sleep. Even months after completing the last tour, his body still struggled to find a natural rhythm. Relaxation was hardly Copia’s forte to begin with, and given his new papal responsibilities and the intimidating promise of recording new material on the horizon, this particular off-season had scarcely given him an opportunity to properly unwind. 

He drew a deep breath, only to be halted by a leaden weight on his chest. He tried to move a finger—to no avail. The force bore down on his sternum like a great, imposing hand, immobilizing him entirely.

The light behind him seemed to glow a little brighter for a moment, as though the moon had grown restless and shifted. Had more than a moment already passed? Fifteen minutes? An hour?

Copia tried to move again, the rustling of his black silk dressing gown deafening in the stony silence of his chamber. But it felt as though the reins of his mind were cut from his limbs, his head, and even his eyelids, which somehow felt fully shut, although he could see. 

From his dream-uncertain lips sprung one word:

“ _Fuck_.”

Insomnia was one matter, but it had been more than a few years since sleep paralysis had come to pay a visit. Suffice it to say he hadn’t missed it.

There was something like the stirring of dry leaves in his ears, or perhaps a bare tree branch whining as it scratched against his window. The sound shifted in his head like an earful of water before splintering into a peal of laughter. Distorted though it was, as if echoing through time itself, the voice was bright as a flame and delightfully familiar.

“Poets write about what this feels like… Songwriters, you name it. Words upon words. And that’s the fucking word you came up with?” the visitor said with a chuckle.

“Daius?” Copia asked, his head suddenly able to loll to one side. “Where are you? Am I dreaming?”

“Eh, sort of. You’re on the right track. Man, I didn’t even know I could do this!” his disembodied voice continued vibrantly. “Aether and Lux helped me intercept your sleep. So, here I am. Apparently it worked!”

“Aether and Lux? The fuck, are all of you here?”

“No! No, no, no. Just me. Umbrae Aethereum are good at connecting with dreams. I just needed a little assistance.”

“Ah, of course…” Copia accepted listlessly, before frustration and exhaustion took hold of his tongue. “But… _why_ , you imbecile? You could have knocked on my door, as you always do. You know I’ve had trouble sleeping. Why the Hell are you here like this?”

At the foot of his bed, from out of the shadows emerged a svelte rail of a man, with long, straight hair and limbs like match sticks. His blue eyes were framed by a band of black face paint, and if not for his recognizable black ensemble and suspenders, Copia would have had no idea who the man was. His spindly fingers drummed against the footboard of his bed irreverently.

“ _Imbecile_. Shit, that’s harsh,” he laughed. “Trust me, I know how grumpy you get when your sleep is disturbed. But _this_ ,” he spread his arms, “is why.”

Copia furrowed his brow. He blinked a few times, and even clamped his eyes shut once, for good measure. When he opened them again, the man was still there. “Wh-what is this face?”

“This is my face,” Daius said pleasantly. “Well, not my Umbra form, obviously. But you know how you’ve wondered who’s behind that mask? But we can’t take it off without the spell reversing?” He ran a confident hand along his bony jaw. “This is him. This is me.”

The dark pope’s face relaxed, and his eyes widened. “Holy shit,” he whispered. 

Since the first time he had removed Daius’s mask and revealed his Umbra form—what felt like an age and a half ago in that Mexico City dressing room—Copia had thought about the unspoken in-between, the alluring impossibility of an unmasked, _human_ Daius. 

Unmasking the demon fully had since become a routine practice in the privacy of his living quarters, allowing Daius the freedom of his ghostly, Hellish body without the prying and judgmental eyes of Imperator present to object. This was good for Daius; it allowed him to _breathe_ , to sleep, to be the living beast he was made to be, free from the confines of his suspended human state. It also allowed him to _feel_ more, to enjoy sex in a body that was his own, to trill and keen in his natural voice—something Copia, without a shadow of a doubt, positively adored.

But for Copia’s basest instincts, something was still missing. In Daius’s human form, each glimpse of his sly mouth and his blue-flame eyes set Copia’s mind ablaze with imagination, as well as a strange brand of longing… a sort of longing that could only come from loving someone who was not of his kind. It made him feel strange and hollow, and so terribly, reprehensibly mortal. 

Try though he may to silence it, he had always _wanted_ to see Daius this way: unfettered by the silver mask, but still a man of flesh and blood. Even if only for posterity. 

And now, against all odds, here that man was. 

The demon’s mouth twitched in a lopsided grin. “Well. What do you think?”

Copia's tongue felt as paralyzed as the rest of his body. He felt his heart ticking like a stopwatch in his throat. “You’re… you’re very handsome, Daius. Sweet Satan.”

Daius caught his reflection in Copia’s vanity on the opposite wall. He flicked his hair over one shoulder with a vain, theatrical hand. “Not too bad, right? I’m as pleased as you are.” As naturally as anything, he started to remove his suspenders, then unceremoniously unzipped his trousers. He raised his blond eyebrows. “I’m guessing most sleep paralysis demons don’t undress for you, but fuck it. Might as well get comfortable, while I’m here.”

Copia looked on, still frozen in place, at this strangely domestic display: this relaxed, half-familiar face, eyes hooded in the darkness as he disrobed down to his long-sleeved undershirt and heather gray briefs. And it all felt very much like a dream, especially as Daius looked back to him and his eyes glowed yellow for just a moment, as if flickering in interference from a different channel.

Copia blinked sleepily.

Daius stretched his lithe arms above his head, his shirt hem lifting and lazily exposing the trail of hair down the center of his belly. “Look all you want, Papa,” he said with a flirtatious lilt. “That’s why I’m here.”

With a snort of laughter, Copia rolled his eyes. “I can’t do much more than look when I can’t move my fucking body,” he said, his voice still hoarse from sleep. 

“Oh, yeah… about that,” Daius muttered. He then crawled onto the bed, moving up Copia’s body until his hand came into contact with the dark pope’s right arm. He slowly caressed the length of it, infusing it with warmth and feeling in the wake of his touch. In an instant, it could be moved again. He repeated the motion down his left arm, then down his torso, stroking each tender curve of his body beneath his black dressing gown. His long fingers moved down his hips to his shapely thighs, gently pulling his knees up to peak around his body. 

Daius then leaned forward and aligned his face with Copia’s, his long hair hanging down to curtain them both like willow boughs. And Copia tucked a section of the demon’s hair behind his ear, carefully, tentatively, before cupping a hand to his soft cheek. It was _soft_ for once, and yielding, even given his lean facial structure. Copia’s palm lingered there, soaking up his familiar Ignis warmth—while another equally familiar warmth kindled between his legs. 

“There. Better?” Daius asked. 

Copia smiled. “I’d say so. I’d certainly say so…”

Daius placed his hand over Copia’s on his cheek. He interlaced their fingers. “Consider it a Solstice gift.”

***

Aether sat beside the Umbra Ignis’s bed, his hands conducting steady rhythms over his resting body. Orange candlelight danced on his fingertips, and up his forearms where the sleeves of his black shirt were rolled high. 

Lux, meanwhile, was utterly spent as he reclined in a leather chair near the door to Ignis’s bedroom. His legs were spread wide, and one hand covered his masked face.

“He owes us,” he said quietly.

“Hmm?” Aether asked, clearly distracted.

Lux sat up and rested his forearms against his thighs. “I said, he owes us. This better not become a regular thing; it’s exhausting, man.”

“Oh, come off it, Lux. It’s a gift,” Aether insisted. “Something special for Papa. I don’t think he wants to make it a frequent thing.”

Lux chuckled. “A _gift_. Oh, that sounds a little sordid, doesn’t it? Might as well have wheeled him in inside a big cake.” He affected a wispy, feminine voice. “ _Blessèd Yuletide, Mr. President_ …”

Aether squinted and wheezed out a laugh. “You better stop it back there, or I’m gonna fuck the whole thing up.”

“Do it! Spice things up a little.”

“Hm, something tells me he won’t need help with that,” Aether muttered.

Lux tisked as his head fell heavy against the back of the overstuffed chair. He let himself sink into it. “Filthy, filthy, filthy,” he said.

In addition to a good half-dozen candles burning in all corners of the room, there was a healthy fire swelling in Ignis’s fireplace, which filled the small bedroom with stifling warmth only a demon could love. It was deliciously cozy, Lux thought. They all kept their rooms this way, especially in the unthinkably frigid Swedish winters. Each of their quarters frequently had a fire roaring in the hearth—but Ignis’s was unsurprisingly the strongest. 

Two vibrant knocks on the door shook him from his reverie.

“Come in,” Lux called.

In strutted Aura, the younger of the Umbrae Caeli, pointing her toes and holding up her black painted nails with all the excitement of a gossipy hen. “Excuse me, but I overheard that we’re _spicing things up a little_ , and I didn’t want you three to have all the fun without me. What are we spicing up?”

“Go away, Aura,” Aether scolded in a bizarrely friendly tone of voice that only he could manage. It made Lux smirk. “We’re in the middle of something here.”

“Oh!” she gasped. “Are we astral-projecting?”

“Somni-projecting,” Aether corrected.

“Somni-projecting,” she repeated quietly, sitting down on the arm of Lux’s leather chair. She spoke over her shoulder to him directly. “I didn’t know we could do that.”

“ _We_ can,” Lux said. “Umbrae Aethereum. Not Caeli. That would be why you didn’t know.”

“Hm,” Aura replied, unimpressed. She dangled her stout legs off the side of the chair. “And where are we projecting Ignis to?”

Lux smacked his lips. “Where do you think?”

“Mmm. _Oh, Papa_ ,” she said suggestively. You could practically hear her eyebrows waggling in her voice. “Why doesn’t he just walk over there like he always does? I hear he’s taking off his mask these days. Sweet Sathanas, that has to feel so good.”

“Aura, I’m trying to bloody concentrate,” Aether warned.

“No, no, you don’t get it. He’s projecting him like _this_ ,” Lux emphasized as he gestured to his human body, “but without _this_ ,” he finished, gesturing in circles around his silver mask. “It’s a… what was that, Aether? A gift?”

“Sounds like some kind of pornographic setup to me,” Aura said out the side of her lips.

“Right? That’s what I said!”

“ _Schfixlich mirchbail!_ ” Aether swore. “That’s enough from the peanut gallery.”

“So… it’s possible?” Aura asked Lux, genuinely curious. “You can project a human form without the mask?”

Lux nodded. “We figured it out. Didn’t we, Aether?”

Radio silence.

“Hm,” Lux huffed, unable to conceal a smile. “I have to say… I get it. I can understand why Copia wants to see him that way. Can you imagine being involved with someone for years and never seeing their face? I mean, he’s seen him as an Umbra. _A lot_ since the tour ended, from what I’ve heard. But, Copia’s not an Umbra himself. That has to kinda…” He shook his head absently, searching for the right word. “…suck.”

Aura stood, crossing her arms under her bosom and leaning against the faded damask wallpaper. She rocked on her heels a bit. “It does. I’m sure. But… I can understand it from Papa’s point of view more than I can from Ignis’s. What is _he_ getting out of this? I mean, Copia’s lovely. But he’s…”

“…Mortal?” Lux offered.

Aura weighed his answer. “Pssht. Yeah, for one.”

“Ignis is different,” Aether said, his voice level as he swept a hand over the fire ghoul’s body. He used his other hand to check his pulse, resting two fingers against the base of his neck. “Copia summoned him. The rest of us were summoned by Nihil and Imperator in tandem. All business. It’s different when you have that singular connection with your summoner.” 

Lux nodded. “Yeah, I don’t think the rest of us have that. Imperator scares the shit out of me, frankly. I don’t feel that connection at all.”

Aether stopped his ministrations for a concentrated moment, hunching his shoulders in the candlelit darkness. “Not to mention the fact that Papa and Ignis just… like each other.” He tossed a masked glance over his shoulder, lined in all directions with the reflection of a dozen flames. “Genuinely. They do.”

Lux listened closely to his inflection. Was that a little bit of jealousy he heard? Or were Aether’s arms just getting tired? 

“Very clearly,” Aura said.

A quick glance at the golden mantle clock across the room revealed that thirty minutes had passed. 3:15 AM, and as always in the grip of his sleepless human vessel, Lux felt it could be any time of night or day. He cracked his knuckles. His eyes lost focus for a moment.

“And that’s my shift,” Aether sighed. “Your turn, Lu-Lu. Give me that chair.”


	2. II.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, everybody! Get lost, 2020. For important notes about ghoul names and such, please refer to Part 1. Cheers! :)

Kissing Daius in this state satisfied something deep in Copia. It was difficult to stop. Pleasure pulsed warm in his chest like a glowing ember as he reached his arms around his neck, around all that long, pin-straight hair, pulling him closer still.

The ease of it, in the absence of that punishing silver mask, was addictive. Daius parted Copia’s lips with his tongue, and he nuzzled his pointed nose against the bridge of Copia’s as he closed his mouth against him again and again, sweet and insistent. 

“You know what is interesting… is how you still look like yourself,” Copia mused, pulling back to appreciate him like a fine painting. His outline was very much the same as that of the Umbra Ignis, but he was colored with a palette far kinder, far more familiar. His crooked smile and wild eyes had a warmer aspect when rendered in flesh. Copia palmed his cheek amicably.

“Well, you don’t just pull this face out of your ass when you bind me. Of course I look like myself! Think of it like… a direct translation.”

Copia felt a sneaky hand snake up his thigh, only to coax under his buttocks and squeeze his exposed skin. The demon guffawed.

“Wait, wait. Are you not wearing anything under there? It’s fucking cold outside, man!”

Copia grabbed the offending hand, which only gripped his ass more firmly in response. “You have known me over two years now. You know I don’t wear shit under my robe.”

“Even when it’s snowing?” Daius asked incredulously, nodding his head to the window.

“Even when it snows. You’ve slept with me when it’s cold! You know this!”

Daius raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, but when I’m here, there’s a fucking _reason_ to go commando.”

Copia leveraged his hand against a surprising amount of Daius’s thin neck, pulling him close. His thumb lingered near his pulse point at the center of his collarbone. “Perhaps I guessed you were dropping by tonight, then? Or at least hoped?” He pressed his thumb to that sensitive well, feeling his warm blood dancing beneath his skin, and Daius trilled low in his chest. Copia smirked. “Oh. Oh, oh. What is this ideal Daius you’ve given me? You’re unmasked, human, and you can still make those sounds? This really is a gift.”

“ _That_ is only because we’re projecting my essence,” the ghoul said matter-of-factly.

“Whatever the reason… it’s very lucky.” Copia slid his fingers down to Daius’s chest, right along his delicate sternum, which vibrated subtly under his fingers. Copia then presented himself, using his other hand to pull the dressing gown aside, his cock pink and exposed and fully erect. And in response, he felt that vibration intensify beneath his fingers, where they still pressed against the demon’s breastbone. “Will you purr for me, Daius? Hmm?” 

Daius glowered for a moment, all sullen and squinting and mischievous, still a smidge resistant to the recognition of this unconscious, primal Umbrish trait. It made Copia grin. The dark pope lived for the measurable indicators of the demon’s arousal, different from his own as they were: the unmistakable smell of smoke and fire that radiates from his body, the white pinpoints of light that sear in his pupils, the wanton trills that escape his throat when he is pleased.

But this vision of Daius in particular—this complete, impossible man—could positively destroy him with these things.

The ghoul exposed his neck vainly. “Will I what?”

Dream-drunk and boundlessly confident, Copia reached down to palm Daius’s cock through his briefs, running the pad of his thumb along the wet spot right at the head. The demon closed his painted eyes. Copia had never considered what the paint looked like with the mask off. “Will you purr for me?” he repeated. “When I touch you?” He shifted his hand to the demon’s throat, pressing firmly against his thrumming pulse point. “Just where you like it?”

And instantly, Daius did. He whined and trilled briefly, his hips edging closer to Copia’s.

“What are you doing, man?” the demon accused playfully. “I’m supposed to be seducing you, not the other way around.”

“Eh, force of habit,” Copia dismissed. “Come here. Come here…” And he pulled the demon forward into another kiss, eagerly welcoming his too-warm tongue back into his mouth. Daius took the initiative and pulled his cock from his briefs, and he languidly worked it in his palm as they kissed, coaxing it to its full length. It was not long before Copia glanced down and noticed this. “Mmm. I see you down there,” he said. “Pretty demon…”

Beyond the bed, Copia’s chamber was deathly still and silent, and the window across the room was peppered with the shadow of heavy snowfall. Soon the room was filled with the herbal scent of ritual oil, a heady blend of patchouli and rosewater, and Copia was being eased open by this creature of Hell who looked so very convincingly like a man. 

Daius seemed conscious enough of the late hour; he wasn’t rough. He didn’t take him on all fours as he had very recently, when Copia’s vocalizations had threatened to wake the entire abbey. He didn’t rush him, and he didn’t push his limits. The ghoul took his time preparing him on his back, his fingers slick and slow, his pace uncommonly patient. His fingertips stroked Copia from the inside, easing him into a twilight state of sleepy bliss, during which the dark pope had to ask himself…

Was he asleep, or was he awake?

Hell, was this happening at all?

Copia moaned as one of those long fingers reached just deep enough…

“Does that feel good, Papa? Hmm?” this strange yet curiously familiar man asked him, his azure eyes darkened by two excited pupils. He ran a thumb along Copia’s moustache once, then twice.

Copia stirred and arched his back to allow the fingers to sink deeper. “Yes…”

“Does it?” the demon repeated quietly, his face growing restless, ungrounded by reality. His bottom lip was slack, his breaths quick and shallow. And for just a moment, his eyes were replaced entirely by his natural flames, which flickered like two sparks in the streaked black paint that banded his eyes. He clamped his eyes shut and shook his head like an irritated animal. When he opened them again, they were calm and blue once more.

For not more than a few seconds, Copia saw the demon’s delicate canine teeth lengthen, followed by his whiplike tongue. But before he could confirm that his hazy, tired eyes had indeed witnessed these things, they were already undone. 

That was until Daius’s entire smoky Umbra form suddenly replaced his human body for a few concrete moments. The sudden change startled Copia. “Woah!” he exclaimed, before the vision flickered back.

The weary human Daius sighed and raked an exasperated hand down his face. “I’m sorry, they’re fucking it up. I can feel it. Give me ten seconds.”

***

“I’m serious! Lucifer’s honor. I’ve heard him talk about it,” Lux chattered, dropping his arms from their dream-weaving duties to rest on his thighs. He turned around to face Aura and Aether, the latter of whom was sprawled lazily over the leather chair, his hands clasped on top of his belly. He looked as though he wouldn’t move for days.

“Please, don’t get my hopes up about this,” the quintessence ghoul pleaded wearily. “Are you _absolutely_ certain?”

“Dead certain,” Lux insisted. “Ignis and Copia are planning to present the idea to Sister Imperator soon. They want to let us go unmasked while we’re on the abbey premises. Masks back on when we’re on the road, and off when we’re home.”

Aura’s wide, skeptical eyes dashed back and forth behind her mask as she considered this. “But…” She interrupted herself and held her hands rigidly in front of her, feeling for the right words to express her concern. “… _Naked?_ ”

“No, not naked! Jesus Christ,” Lux laughed. “We can wear our uniforms on our Umbra bodies. There is absolutely no reason why we shouldn’t be allowed to live in our natural forms during the off season. But the biggest concern is—”

“Lux, what the fuck is going on here?” Ignis’s bright voice cut through the conversation like a high beam. His body spoke from its trance-like state, eyes still closed, hands still neatly folded over his ribcage like a posed corpse. “I’m flickering like a fucking television up there, and I happen to be in the middle of something that’s _just a little_ time sensitive. I’m not paying you to gossip, my man.”

Lux snapped back around. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Shit, I can’t even let my hands rest for a few seconds?”

“Oh, that was more than a few seconds,” Aura teased.

“Who the—is that Aura?” Ignis asked testily. “You guys are the fucking worst. Quit distracting each other!”

“Yeah, fellas, quit distracting each other,” Aura parroted. “Some of us are trying to get laid.”

“ _She_ gets it!” Ignis barked.

“Sorry, Ignis,” Aether interjected politely. “Apologies. That was my bad. Lux will get back to it.”

“ _Mifghi dlantia_ ,” Ignis thanked him, his voice even more biting in his native tongue. 

The three remained silent until they were certain he’d gone.

“Oof,” said Aura.

Lux shook his head and chuckled as he resumed the somni-projection. His hands conducted in a quicker formation than before, as though hastily sewing up the holes he’d ripped in the situation. With each pull of his wrist, he felt the essence of the fire ghoul return to his fingertips, only to dissipate like a fine mist and weave its way back to Papa’s quarters.

He continued in silence for a few minutes before flicking a sly smile over his right shoulder. “Your bad?” he said playfully. “You didn’t have to do that.” Was that too fond? It came out just a skosh too fond. He turned back to the slumbering Ignis and raised his eyebrows in embarrassment. 

“Sure I did,” Aether insisted. He groaned as he stretched his back. “I knew you wouldn’t apologize anyway. Not in your nature, my friend.”

“Hmm, and what would you know about my nature?”

Aether hummed as he considered his answer. “More than you might think, mate.”

“Lucifer below, get a room,” Aura said as she rolled her eyes toward the low beamed ceiling. 

“Psh. Looks like we’re gonna to be stuck in one together for awhile,” Lux muttered. 

A quick glance at the mantle clock told Lux it was 3:30. Just fifteen minutes more. Fifteen minutes. He was already growing envious of Aether, who was now curled in a cozy ball on his side in the oversized chair.

“Hold up,” he said suddenly. “ _Are_ we getting paid for this?”


	3. III.

Daius hiked up Copia’s black dressing gown over the swell of his bare thighs, pushing the silk up past his hips as he eased inside of him. Copia glanced down and caught sight of some of his most intimate freckles framed between the demon’s splayed fingers, which held him firmly in place. He saw the demon’s slim pelvis tilt toward him until they were flush, fitted snugly together. Briefly, he even caught Daius smiling privately at his work. 

And in that moment, Copia lost all sense of fatigue. It didn’t matter what time it was, or how long it would take him to fall asleep again. In the muffled silence of his bed chamber, with thick flakes of snow sneakily burying the abbey grounds as each minute passed, all he paid any mind to was his lovely visitor: this rakish man who filled him so completely as he peppered his neck with kisses.

“Fucking Hell,” Copia sighed. He dragged his fingers through the demon’s hair as he cradled his head with his palm. He could already smell the woodsmoke on him, clinging to his hair and his skin as though he’d spent the evening at a bonfire.

Daius rolled his hips twice. “Taking me well right away, Copia… I wonder why…” The words spilled from his enthralled lips, as though he couldn’t keep them in. Copia loved this about Daius. Despite his prickly outward demeanor, like all ghouls—and like all demons of all kinds, for that matter—recognition and reassurance fueled his spirit. And so, when at his most vulnerable, he would lay the groundwork for Copia to praise him. Some of his tactics were subtler than others.

Copia released an awkward bark of a laugh. “I’d better be taking you well by now, after two years.” He pulled the demon’s face to his, and with his index finger, he scratched just under his ear. Daius arched and trilled, his eyes fluttering shut. Copia shifted his arm forward just enough that the tender flesh of his wrist met the ghoul’s warm lips, which parted to nip at the skin. He darted his tongue out a time or two, tasting his racing pulse. Copia cupped his cheek with his other hand. “Sweet Daius…” And those words were enough to elicit a high, chittering, appreciative sound, a sound so markedly inhuman that it was nothing short of humbling. He could almost hear Daius’s subterranean roots and unfathomable age in that cry. 

But still most arresting of all was that face, with its Hellish angles and unflinching eyes. 

It pained him to think he would not be able to see that face in the morning.

Daius pushed Copia’s legs back toward his torso, deepening his thrust. “Look at me,” he said firmly, as though reading Copia’s mind. “I know what you’re thinking. And you need to stop. It’s sad as fuck.” His voice broke with a melancholy laugh.

“What? Thinking what? What are you talking about?” Copia said quietly.

The ghoul positioned himself over Copia and let his hair fall loose around him. His eyes were soft and earnest. “Don’t you dare,” he warned, and there was that crooked grin again, which Copia was certain would be his undoing. He drew close, until their faces nearly touched. “Look at me. Look at this face,” he instructed. And he kissed Copia softly, stilling his hips and holding his jaw with one spindly hand. Copia could taste the fire on him. “Memorize him. Memorize me.”

And that did it. As soon as it had been said, the dark pope felt the corners of his eyes prickle with the reluctant onset of tears. He followed the bridge of his nose with his fingertips, then the firm cheekbones under his eyes, then his thin lips, his jaw, even his ears, rubbing this carbon copy hard, hard into his memory.

“He’s yours,” the demon said, his eyes wide and insistent. “I’m yours.”

It was a strange feeling, the jarring dichotomy of Daius edging him toward a much-needed release, and one heavy tear escaping his eye. 

Copia grimaced. “ _Cazzo._ I’m sorry. I… don’t know why it makes me cry.”

Daius scoffed. “Psh, I do!” he exclaimed. He repeated it again, more kindly this time, and stroked one of Copia’s sideburns as he did. “I do.”

And with that, the demon visitor leaned forward, brushed the tear from Copia’s cheek with a firm and steady thumb, and increased his pace. Copia felt a short cry of surprise leave his lips. His hand made its way down to his rigid cock, which was grateful for the attention. And as he sank back into his pillow, letting himself be thoroughly taken, he kept his eyes firmly on the ghoul’s, still memorizing, unwilling to miss a single expression. 

The rosy moonlight through the stained glass window had something of a 3:45 shade to Copia’s insomniac eyes when he finally came over his own hand, his belly fluttering, and Daius relentlessly nudging just the right spot again and again. 

When he knew Daius was near, he requested to watch him. “I’ve never seen your face, not completely,” he said between ragged breaths. “I want to see you.”

Daius laughed. “I take no responsibility if it isn’t pretty,” he said.

Ever the modest showman.

When Daius came, his narrow chest heaved—Copia could see his ribs expanding through his slim black undershirt—and his eyes fluttered northward before closing altogether. His lips snarled for just a moment before he let his jaw drop, all slack and sated. And he trilled decadently as he let his head fall on Copia’s shoulder.

It is here that Copia’s memory begins to fade. He vaguely recalled the ghoul cleaning them both with a cloth, his sweet, toothy grin as he laughed at something inconsequential, his black makeup beginning to smear and thin on his eyelids. He remembered him stroking his own hair as he spoke, seemingly transfixed by the length and the softness of it.

Copia also remembered the demon resting his head on his chest, purring contentedly, the vibrations coursing through the pope’s skeleton. Daius was fiddling with the edge of his dressing gown, pushing it aside to lazily run his fingers through the hair on his chest. And this was the last thing he saw before he slipped into sleep again, at some untold hour of the night.

***

There was a crystalline coating on everything the next morning, a smooth layer of ice that caught the sun and twinkled like fine jewelry on the tree branches. Down below, several inches of snow lay undisturbed by any ghoulish feet. Nothing is more guaranteed to keep an Umbra from his routines than a Swedish morning below zero.

Copia had just finished the morning rites in the chapel, where the icy rays of light shone brilliantly through the Morningstar mural in stained glass above the main entrance. Lucifer’s yellow eyes were like two blinding beams. Copia knelt to him on his way out.

“Season’s greetings, Papa!” a jovial voice shouted to him from down the stone hallway. It was Lux, looking rather festive in a metallic forest green shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. He imagined that had to be a stifling garment for a creature that runs so hot.

“Lux! A blessèd Yule to you. You’re just the demon I was looking for,” he said, extending his arms and spreading his sparkling chasuble as he approached him.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, yes. _I have vocal parts for you_ …” Copia sang as he picked delicately at the gold nails on his leather gloves.

“Ooh, Hell yes!” Lux exclaimed, his brown eyes lighting up. “Another new one?”

“Another new one, yes. I can’t seem to stop myself right now, you know? A good problem to have,” he said. “Although my sleep has suffered for it. I can’t seem to write until it’s past midnight.”

“Ahh,” Lux dismissed with a wave of one ringed hand. “Fuck it, man. You can catch up on sleep later. I haven’t slept in over two years! And I’m all right. I… think,” he trailed off weakly.

Copia winced. “Shit, I can’t imagine. I actually have something about that to discuss with you all… soon. Not quite yet. But soon, soon.”

Lux narrowed his eyes with such knowing anticipation, Copia could have sworn he _knew_ about his plans to propose the Umbrae go unmasked at home. How could he? Daius wasn’t much of a gossip, at least as far as Copia had witnessed firsthand. But then again, something as monumental as this could easily spread like wildfire…

Truth be told, Copia was half-expecting the ghoul to mention the previous night’s activities. Daius had said that Lux and Aether helped him to project. Or was that just a useless detail in an elaborate dream? He found with every passing moment that Daius’s sleep-paralysis visitation felt less and less like it had actually happened. It had fogged his head all morning, weaving through his memorized matins with warm, hazy, half-remembered sweetness…

“But about those vocal parts!” Copia continued briskly. “Are you open to join me in the performance space this morning?”

“I wish I could, Papa,” Lux said, swinging his arms absently. “But I’m actually looking for Aether. He’s joining me for a little, um… Yuletide rite of our own this morning.”

Copia raised one painted eyebrow. “I suspect I shouldn’t ask?”

“Naaah, don’t ask. Don’t ask. It’s fine. It’s cool,” Lux said, deflecting with his hands and rocking on his feet. Was he nervous? Did this brazen creature have the capacity to get nervous?

The dark pope nodded firmly. “Then I’ll let you get to it.” He patted the demon amicably on one arm. “ _Buona fortuna_.”

Lux winked. “Thanks, Papa.” 

As the quintessence ghoul started off down the sun-drenched hallway with a noticeable spring in his step, Copia felt a hand sneak into his chasuble and around his waist. He nearly jumped out of his skin.

“ _Jesus, fuck_ —”

“Good morning,” Daius chimed quietly. He stood alert at his side, looking like a beatnik at a masquerade in his black turtleneck and silver mask. He glanced absently down the hall as he drummed his fingers comfortably along Copia’s spine.

“Where in Hell did you come from?” Copia asked with a laugh.

“I was in the window seat,” Daius said plainly, nodding to his right. “Creeping on your matins and trying to help Lux get his shit together.” He untangled himself from Copia’s regalia, stepping backwards toward the stone window ledge with one thumb gesturing behind him. “Join me?”

He wasn’t about to decline that offer.

Copia sat, leaning his head against the frosty glass behind him and resting his tired eyes for a brief moment. It felt as though he hadn’t gotten any sleep at all: a state that was becoming lamentably common for him. Daius sat beside him cross-legged, turning his body eagerly toward the dark pope. He tented his fingers like he was about to reveal the conspiracy of the century. “So,” he said.

“So what, demon?” Copia replied coyly with his eyes still closed.

Daius smirked, unfazed. “So… can you still see him?”

Copia’s eyes snapped open. He immediately sat upright and locked eyes with the ghoul. “It did happen, then?” he asked, his voice cracking a little.

“Hell yeah, it happened!” Daius said. “But you didn’t answer my question, Copia.”

Copia smiled and released a short, wheezy laugh, suddenly overcome with immense relief. Leaning forward, he pulled the demon’s face near to his. And sure enough… there were the black-banded blue eyes, the clever mouth. Underneath his balaclava was all that lovely, long hair, that tapered jaw. And he could see him. He could see him in his entirety. He brushed his thumb against the ghoul’s lips.

“It’s crazy,” Copia said. “But I can. I really can. Every detail of you.”

“Don’t be so surprised. I asked you to memorize me.” Daius grasped the gloved hand that held his face and kissed its golden nails. “And you did. You get an A plus.”

Copia placed his palm on the ghoul’s thigh and squeezed him firmly. He cast his eyes downward as a familiar fluttering rose in his chest. “That was very, _very_ kind, what you did. You did not have to do that for me.”

“Sure, I did,” the demon insisted. He sighed. “Let’s be honest: interspecies involvement is a tough sell. Even for an anti-pope. I wanted to do you a favor.” 

There was a boisterous, echoed greeting several halls down that caused them both to turn their heads; it had to be Lux and Aether. It sounded for all the world like the rest of the halls around them were empty, all the abbey occupants likely huddled by their fires, already sipping mulled wine in the early hours.

Copia looked back to Daius with apologetic eyes. “You know I love you as you are, right?”

“Don’t give me that shit,” Daius protested. “Of course I do! Just like I love you in your hard-earned skull paint, even though I can’t kiss you without making a mess of it…”

A demonstration was apparently in order, because before Copia could have any say in the matter, Daius had yanked his balaclava under his chin and pulled him into a kiss. His tongue was irreverent as ever, tangling with Copia’s as it pushed past his painted lips. And his ropey hands threaded ruthlessly through his hair, grasping at the ends as he pulled him closer yet.

When Copia pulled back, he snickered at the white and black smudges that decorated the demon’s mask. He dragged his thumb down the bridge of his metallic nose until the worst mark was gone. Daius casually wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. He grimaced at the smear it left behind.

“Worth it every time,” the ghoul said.

Copia shook his head listlessly. “I must look like an absolute whore now.”

“So what? Terzo frequently did, too,” Daius mused. He lowered his voice suspiciously. “Trust me. Omega took no prisoners.”

Copia laughed and brought himself to his feet. He held out one gloved hand for the ghoul to follow. “Come with me to assess the damage? We have much to discuss. After all, last night got me thinking… now I owe you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! <3 These last two chapters dropped hints about a future fic, where Copia will approach Imperator about letting the ghouls go unmasked at home. Stay tuned for that - it's already in the works. ;) Cheers!


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